Chocolate Bars
by Everythingisawesome001
Summary: "Irene Adler was beautiful, exotic, tempting, far smarter than me and shared his love for crime adventure. What am I? A pathetic girl who spends more time with cats and corpses than actual people. Awkward, ordinary and on the borderline of decent. Even Sherlock knows it..." "You're wrong," a steely voice called out... Rated for mentions of sex. Sherlolly.


**A lovely Sherlolly story for you Benedict lovers! -Everythingisawesome001**

Molly Hooper sat at a respectable distance doing her reports while sending small glances at her newly acquainted partner of 2 months. The world's only consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes himself who was using her microscope looking as dashing as ever. She was trying to get her paperwork done for but couldn't help but let her thoughts wander to her brusque new partner (because "boyfriend" is a stupid term according to him).

" _So umm… a man in his late 30s… blond hair… unlike Sherlock's lovely brown curls… Anyways um strangled to death in an alleyway by… more than one person… found only 2 hours after the death and by my…partner himself… I haven't seen him in 2 weeks and he just walks in and demanded my microscope and solving the man's death. No hello's or I missed you"_

"You have glanced at me 12 times in the past five minutes, is there something that you need to say," he said interrupting her thoughts. He was looking at her for the first time all evening. His microscope stood there holding the blood from the latest victim in a serial killing. John had just stepped out to go talk to Greg.

Oh there was plenty that she needed to say. Such as why he hadn't even said hello to her when he walked into the room, he never did but she was hoping that that would change. Why he hasn't taken her out for almost 3 weeks that date being a crime scene investigation. Their real date had yet to come. Why he STILL hasn't stopped insulting her. And that was just the beginning. She was hoping that after his "death", things would have changed but it hasn't in the last 7 years, why now? In fact, when was the last time that they had kissed?

"N-no nothing at all," she murmured making the oblivious (supposedly) detective look back at his, "B-but I was wondering if we could maybe go out this weekend, I have a holiday and you'll obviously have y-your case solved, so um… dinner maybe or just movies at m-my flat, whatever."

"The man in this spree is not a man at all actually. Only men were murdered and their only link being that they were contestants of the Britain gaming exports. Being only 6 participants with 3 of them dead. Only 3 left. 2 males and the only female in the competition- Julia Forgerty," he began to speak faster, "Judging from the blood all of them have been killed with ricin. Julia happens to have an uncle that owns a makeup preparation factory with whom she is very close, giving her access to the seed extracted from castor plants. Kill the competition and she would will the 100 grand prize by default. Plain, simple done," he stated as though Molly hadn't said a word.

She stared at him dumbfounded. He had just ignored everything she had just said for a chance to show off to a woman who already knew his brilliance. She pushed back her anger and tried again.

"That's great. So about the date," she tried. Sherlock had the nerve to roll his eyes.

"Dates are a waste of time," he sneered the word "date" with sheer loathing, "We may as well just go straight to the sex in the relationship, you haven't had sex in over a year. You've gained almost 6 pounds and considering the amount of cat hair on your lab coat, you haven't left the flat for a date in weeks and slept in 3 days. I know you aren't Irene, but some concealer and maybe new clothes wouldn't kill you Molly. If you want a "date" you can join John and I on our next case if you truly wish. But I don't need to be wasting my time."

His words hit Molly hard. Not only had he flat out turned her down, he had downright insulted her on her weight. He also apparently took her as an easy girl. Molly was used to his words. Before the "death" he used to insult her daily and gave her false compliments to gain access to the lab. She realized that nothing had changed when he came back 4 months ago except that he had an easier time getting into the lab.

Everything he told her about needing her and trusting her may have been true but he definitely still saw her as "Mousy Molly" who dressed in oversized jumpers and kept her hair back in a ponytail. The ordinary partner for an extraordinary man. His access to dead bodies made easier. Something for him to do when he was bored.

Molly gave a little nod, unable to respond with the bile and hurt rising in her throat. Before tears could block her vision, she scurried to her side of the desk and hurriedly collected her paperwork before rushing into her office, unaware of Sherlock looking up at her bemused.

She smacked the door closed and dumped the paperwork on the desk, finally letting out the tears she had pent up for so long. She shakily lowered herself onto the floor in the corner

Her _boyfriend_ was one of the most brilliant men she knew but how could he be so clueless? Molly knew that Sherlock was never a romantic. He wasn't the one who brought her flowers and held her hand and whisper sweet nothings but would it hurt to go on a date once in a while. She wasn't even looking for a fancy date at the classiest restaurant in London or a boat ride with fireworks. Just time for them to hang out and talk about something other than brutal murders.

She could have let him have it. Thrown a fit and attempted to put him in his place. Right there and then, she wasn't as mousy as people said but what good would it have done with him? He would have reversed it to make her look stupid. He actually had the nerve to compare him to Irene Adler as well. The dominatrix that she had yet to figure out. She always suspected they had history but she never questioned it because she trusted him.

But now it felt confirmed that she would never be as amazing through his eyes as Irene was. Molly wasn't a head turner but she was always confident that she wasn't a total visual disgrace but that thought diminished.

She took a deep breath in and let it out wiping the tears away. She pulled herself off the ground and sat in her chair to finish her paperwork. She pulled out a chocolate bar from her desk drawer. Her comfort food for years of dealing with Sherlock's words. She was about to unwrap it but…

… _a diet wouldn't kill you Molly…_

She stiffened and immediately tossed it into her wastebasket embarrassed and miserable. She promised herself that she wouldn't do this. Change herself for any man that is, but then again, Sherlock Holmes was not just any man.

…..

Meanwhile Sherlock was having a difficult time focusing for the first time in his life. He didn't understand why Molly had just rushed out of the lab so quickly. He continued to ponder until his trusted colleague John Watson walked in.

"Hey mate. Where did Molly go, she was just in here?"

Sherlock told the story of how she had just bolted out of the room with her paperwork failing to mention what he had said hoping that John wouldn't ask but John was smarter than most.

"What did you do?" he asked casually, as though he was used to this (which he was). Sherlock moved around uncomfortably.

"Something about her weight and her lack of a sex life. And I may have also mentioned that I do not enjoy going on dates. But in all fairness, I say these things to her a lot, never bothered her before,' he stated arrogantly. John frowned at his best friend's lack of common sense.

"That was before you were dating Sherlock. You're supposed to make her feel special and appreciated. Let me guess, you brought Adler into this as well," when he was met with an awkward silence and embarrassed face he tried again, "didn't you?"

"Ah… I may have mentioned something about Irene's weight in comparison to Molly's and her appearance to some extent. But to be fair…" he didn't get to finish it before John cut him off.

"If it was her telling you that she finds another bloke more attractive then you WHILE you were dating, how would you feel Sherlock?"

"I'd probably find the bloke and find how many ways I was superior," Sherlock scoffed.

"But how would that make you feel?" his partner asked again. Sherlock paused and looked away. He would be furious of course and disappointed. But deep, **deep** inside most of him would be wounded, but he would put it away in his mind palace. Or try his best to. John new that he had hit the nail on the head, he didn't need his answer.

"You haven't taken her out for real in the whole two months that you've been dating, you haven't kissed her in weeks. For the past two weeks you and I have been in Liverpool and the first thing you do when you get back is demand the microscope for a new case without as much as a hello. You compare her to Irene. Molly may not be a dominatrix, but she has the personality that lights up the whole room and I hate that you can't see it mate," John sighed. Sherlock just looked at him blankly.

"Is there a point to what you are saying John?" The former army doctor didn't know whether to face palm or smack his brilliantly dumb friend in the face.

"You know what Sherlock? Just break up with her. She'll cry for a bit but she'll get over you eventually. We'll find you a new person to use as a morgue keeper. You won't care and she'll be happy sooner," John sneered. The reaction he received was more than surprising. He looked at John as though he suggested calling Greg by his real name. But he immediately took his emotions into check and went back to his look of indifference.

"No. Not an option," he stated as though he was discussing the weather, but there was an underlying emotion tinting his words, as though the thought revolted him. It wasn't a proclamation of his love but it was proof that he cared. That he wasn't just with her for his links. John stood there dumbfounded before shaking himself back to normal.

"Then let her know it Sherlock. Let her know that she isn't just your gateway to the morgue. Or you might…" before he could finish, Sherlock hopped out of his chair, flung on his Belstaff and left the lab in a flourish, leaving John to clean up.

He sighed and picked up the petri dishes. He had just begun cleaning them when a petit figure made an entrance into the lab. She shakily put on her coat and grabbed the keys, unaware of the other presence in the room.

"He doesn't want to lose you Molly," John's voice rang out. Molly jumped and dropped her keys. She whipped around coming face to face with Molly, her position relaxing slightly. Molly just shrugged and wiped a tear that fell from her eye.

"He doesn't care. He's only dating "Mousy Molly" for access to the lab. He hadn't seen me for 2 weeks and he had only come to visit because he needed sample testing," she paused in a daze before continuing, "Irene Adler was beautiful, exotic, tempting, _far_ smarter than me and shared his love for crime adventure. She was ideal for Sherlock and what am I? A pathetic girl who spends more time with cats and corpses than actual people. Awkward, ordinary and on the borderline of decent. Even Sherlock knows it. He just needed someone who didn't hate him and could give him resources. But you know what…"

"You're wrong," a steely voice called out, making Molly jump and drop her keys for a second time. Before she could go to retrieve them an imposing figure in a Belstaff bent down and scooped them up. He stood back up never letting his gaze leave his partner's face.

"I thought you were gone," John inquired.

"I had forgotten my scarf," he said indicating a navy blue scarf sitting on his recently vacated chair, "and I had heard it all. John I need a moment alone with Ms. Hooper,"

John sullenly nodded before giving Molly a reassuring smile and exiting. Molly sighed and looked at the mess. She took of her coat and began to pick up John's abandoned petri dishes and continued to clean up what John had barely started.

Sherlock stood there and watched her clean up without saying a word. Molly spoke up first.

"You have your scarf, why are you still here?" Molly asked quietly. Sherlock continued to stand there quietly looking at her. No actually, not looking _\- deducing_. But Molly just figured that he had gone into his mind palace or something, so she just continued to clean up.

Half an hour later the lab was cleaned in silence. Molly placed the lab key on the desk and silently put her coat on. Sherlock can lock up when he was done doing… whatever he was doing.

She had just made it out the door when Sherlock began talking again.

"Irene Adler, was a dominatrix. Her looks came from extensive surgeries, product and unhealthy habits. Without all of that, she would look like any average lady. You on the other hand don't- need those things that is. You wear clothes you know are not flattering and a makeup free face because you feel that practicality is better than style which I admire," he began as though he was deducing, his speech speeding up, "You don't need to lose any weight, I merely stated you weight gain because you were a bit too skinny to me before but my ignorance insulted you instead. As for your lack of a sex life, I am aware that I am the reason for that. You spent most of last year worrying about me and caring for me and the last few weeks hoping that I would call or visit… but I didn't. I wanted you to wear concealer because I feel guilt every time I see you looking so exhausted but I do nothing of it because when I'm on a case I become so arrogant that I ignore you. I let my big mouth run and need to prove my intelligence make you feel inferior, but believe me when I say that you have no reason to be, Dr. Hooper."

Molly looked at her trainer covered toes. Sherlock could tell that she didn't quite believe him yet. After everything he's said, he isn't surprised.

"Tomorrow, we can go on an outing of your choice. Any place at all," he tried.

"B-but I don't want you to go out because you believe that it'll make me happy. I want you to go because you want to know my favourite colour, and about my childhood and what I prefer to have for dinner. And that you want to let me know about things like that too."

She was met with silence. When she looked up, he was gone.

Of course he would be.

….

The next morning Molly had worn a simple light pink sundress with a thick brown belt around the centre with matching coloured sandals. She had her hair pulled back in her simple ponytail. It was quite hot outside but mostly because she hoped Sherlock would approve. Luckily today was just paperwork so she couldn't get bloodied up. She walked in to her office only to pause and drop her keys (again, a tiny voice in the back of her mind groaned). On her desk was a bouquet of flowers. Pure white with silk-like petals. She picked up her keys and slowly approached the bouquet looking around. As she took off her coat and put on her lab coat, she inspected the lovely little flowers.

Gardenias.

They were snow white gardenias. There was a light blue envelope with her name clearly addressed on the back. She picked it up and opened it hesitantly.

 _Dr. Hooper,_

 _You favourite colour is green and your favourite dinner consists of pasta of sorts. Tonight I can deduce your childhood at the Italian restaurant near Baker Street. And you can ask me my questions. I really want to go._

 _SH_

 _P.S. Irene Alder cannot compare to you. Wear something Molly._

Molly smiled bigger than she had in weeks. She picked up the bouquet and sniffed the sweet scent.

"Molly! I need arsenic acid, a bendy straw and a liver of a twenty year old diseased man," a familiarly deep baritone declared. Speaking of the devil, Sherlock stood in the lab looking like a dark, imposing angel in the white of the lab.

Molly walked out timidly, leaving the flowers on her desk. Sherlock was already at the microscope, fiddling with some of the slides and adjusting the knobs.

"S-sure, I'll g-go grab it," she said scurrying past him, before pausing and rushing back to him. Sherlock looked at her curiously. But she noticed that under that curiosity, there was an underlying tension and nervousness radiating off of them. Her eyes, on the other hand, we filled with joy and cheekiness. She reached a small hand and placed it on his taut cheek and let her lips briskly kiss him on the cheek, making him stiffen and maybe even shiver all at once.

"Hello Sherlock," she whispered, backing away with a noticeable blush and smile. She turned around and was almost out the door when she heard a response.

"Hello Molly."

She scurried out and came back carrying his supplies on cloud nine. D.I. Lestrade tried talking to her but she didn't hear a thing over the delightful ringing in her ears. When she came back he noticed that he was still there pretending to still be playing with the microscope. She placed down the supplies and went to finish some more of her paperwork. She sat down across from Sherlock and clumsily opened her pen before getting down to business. It was silent for several minutes before Sherlock first broke the silence.

"You look lovely today," he casually said without looking up from his experiment. She looked up surprised before blushing and stuttering a thanks. The next hour was comfortably silent with the two people enjoying each other's presence before Sherlock got a call from John saying that someone had died a few blocks over with a threatening note.

"Got to go. See you tonight," he said brusquely before. She expected him to just leave, leaving her to clean up the mess, but he picked up the liver and threw it into the fridge and put away the arsenic acid and trashing the straw. Then he turned to Molly. He took his coat and put it on before hurriedly walking to Molly, grabbing her face and leaving a quick kiss on her lips, letting it linger longer than he intended.

Pulling back, he looked into her eyes offering a small smile which she gladly returned with blood-rushed cheeks. Sherlock reached a hand on his pocket and placed something on the table.

"Goodbye Doctor Hooper," he whispered before rushing out before Molly could say it back. Looking down she found a chocolate bar lying on the desk. She picked it up and happily unwrapped it letting the sweetness melt into her mouth.

"Goodbye Sherlock."

 **That's all folks! Thanks for reading.**


End file.
